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Updated: June 26, 2025
I tried to put away the fears I had had which I told myself were foolish and morbid. John Westley's arguments helped me. I knew immediately that he was related to the Peter Westley who had crushed your father, but I felt certain he knew nothing of it and I was glad; to bury the past entirely was the only way to bury forever the bitterness that had killed your father.
So I cried for a very weepy half-hour I wanted more than anything else to be a little girl again with all childhood before me. I was afraid to look ahead into life " "But there was father you knew him then, didn't you?" A pretty color suffused Mrs. Westley's cheeks. "Yes there was father. I said I only cried for half an hour. Two years afterward I was married and I cried again.
"There, my dear, you're settled for this term, at least," declared Miss Lee as they left the last classroom, "Now go back to your study-room and take that desk that Gyp Westley's saving for you." Assigned to classes and with a desk of her own and with Gyp close at hand Jerry felt like a real Lincolnite and her unhappy shyness vanished as though by magic.
As she chattered away, with one hand through John Westley's arm and the other holding Jerry's, she drew them into the big hall and to the living-room beyond.
"You squandered that hundred dollars we give you to git out of town on," he burst forth to Potts, breathing with an ominous difficulty. "You just wait till you hear the worst of it," answered Potts, as he confidingly dusted the shoulder of Westley's coat.
As she crept up the long stairs to her room, she asked herself if she could be the same girl who had poured tea at Mrs. Westley's, and talked to all those refined people, who seemed to admire her and make much of her, as if she were one of them. Before, she had escaped from the toils of that folly of the past by disowning it; but now, she had voluntarily made it hers.
"Oh, great! It will only be a little while before you're back in school, Isobel." "Good-night, Jerry." "Good-night, Isobel!" "Hello! Is that you, Gyp? I want Centre 2115, please. Is this Mr. Westley's house? Is that you, Gyp?.... This is Pat Everett. Listen " came excitedly over the wire, though Gyp was listening as hard as she could. "Peg and I've found the black-and-white man!"
And she had found that the girls, instead of laughing at her, envied her because Dana King had so gallantly come to her rescue! "You should have seen Isobel Westley's face she was furious," Ginny Cox had confided to her. And Jerry would not have been human if she had not felt a momentary thrill of satisfied revenge.
At first, he had been prepared to like him, as he liked nearly everybody. But Mr. Westley had discouraged all advances, and, as time went by, his nephew had come to look on him as something apart from the rest of the world, one of those things which no fellow could understand. On Mr. Westley's side, there was something to be said in extenuation of his attitude.
During the morning Ginny Cox had borrowed Graham Westley's skis and had, after many tumbles, succeeded in one thrilling descent. She declared now to the others, between huge mouthfuls of sandwich, that it was the most exciting thing she'd ever done and Ginny, they all knew, had done many! Jerry, next to her, had agreed, quietly, that skiing was very exciting.
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